


devour her for me

by peachyteabuck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Multi, Oral Sex, Pet Play, established peggy carter/reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27336670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: natasha’s interested in pet play, and turns to peggy for some advice
Relationships: Natasha Romanoff/Peggy Carter/Reader, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Reader, Peggy Carter/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 79





	devour her for me

Natasha hesitantly steps into the large bedroom, her heels clacking against the floor at a pace slightly slower than the woman she follows. Just like the woman in front of her, everything has a place, and everything looks _perfect_. Impeccable. It makes Natasha wrinkles her nose at her own messy apartment, which she always attempts to clean but can ever get to the level she sees on those “professional organizer” Instagram pages.

“I hope you know I greatly appreciate you coming to me,” Peggy says, reaching into the small table that lays to the right of the queen-sized bed. It’s the same matte white as the solid bedframe, the marble top a similar swirl to the churning in Natasha’s stomach. “Instead of some stupid blog, or whatever it is people are doing these days.”

Natasha gives a _mm_ as she watches her friend grab a small plastic container with a twist-top labelled _treats_ and a chain leash with a dusty pink pleather handle. It’s not that she doesn’t have a lot to say, or to ask, rather that she can’t seem to find the right string of words.

So she stays silent, her eyes flitting to the other side of the bed. There, in a cage a shade of pink so light it might as well be white, you wait patiently. Your legs are tucked under your bruise-covered ass with your back straight and palms resting on your thighs – an unnatural position that shows off your training. It’s…erotic, to say the least, watching each of your movements be ruled by this internal Foucauldian force.

Natasha presses her thighs together in a shy attempt at relief. It does not work.

Peggy maneuverers throughout the room with ease that only comes with confidence, arriving at your crate like an angle floating down from the Heavens to bless a village with a fruitful harvest. She stands in front of it – bending knees to lower herself to your eyeline, crooking the forefinger of her nondominant hand. In the other she holds the leash, one that Natasha now notices matches the collar around your throat.

You crawl forward at your master’s direction, pausing in front of her so Peggy can attach the end of the leash to the O-ring. In the same well-behaved manner, you follow Peggy at her heel as she walks to the other side of the room, gesturing for Natasha to join her as she sits on the plush velvet couch.

There, they sit, both of them watching you as Peggy speaks.

“She’s my prized pet,” she grins wider with each word, perfectly applied red lipstick making her white teeth shine even more as she does so. The woman turns towards where you are on the floor, the eye contact triggering something inside you that makes you perk up. “Who’s my perfect little pet?”

Your whole body nearly vibrates under the praise.

Peggy smiles even wider, her white teeth shining against her red-painted lips. “Yes, _you’re_ my perfect little puppy.”

There’s another beat before Peggy’s tone shifts into one Natasha recognizes from work. It’s not _fake_ , per say, but the tone is permanently up-beat and the pitch just a _tad_ higher. It reminds Natasha of Starbucks baristas and waiters who are on the first ten minutes of their baby shift.

“It’s really about consistency,” she tells Natasha. “Of course, you two should _consult_ on the schedule since it needs to work for the both of you. You shouldn’t force yourself into the lifestyle, you know? Rather, you should make the lifestyle work for you.”

Peggy continues speaking for a long while – at least Natasha assumes so. Her mind is focused on you, watching every one of your careful, calculating movements.

It takes a minute for Natasha to build up the courage, but eventually she reaches forward to ghost her fingers over your thick collar, tapping her long nails against the nameplate that reads _“PROPERTY OF MS. CARTER”_ and hitting it against other charms so that they jingle.

Peggy gives a light smile, as if she’s reminiscing. “That circular pink one?” she says, gesturing to where Natasha’s thumb is rubbing against the smooth orb. “That one’s a tracker. That way she can’t get lost without me being able to find her again.”

She lowers her head to look at you, scrunching up her nose in the same manner one speaks to babies. “You aren’t going anywhere, are you puppy?”

You immediately shake your head back and forth, whines high in your ribcage sounding like disagreement.

“We had an incident at the beginning, but,” Peggy turns to Natasha, taking a sip before she speaks again. “For the initial training period I had her on a shock collar, so that behavior was able to be fixed rather quickly.”

Natasha “ _hmms_ ,” having a hard time imagining you so much as having a hair out of place. “Were there any other, uh, incidents?”

Peggy shakes her head. “No, no. She was quite well behaved after that, so I didn’t think it was necessary.”

The silence that settles over them is thick, though not uncomfortable; instead of a humid summer day, Natasha feels like she’s under one of those weighted blankets. Even if she can’t move, it’s a comfortable pressure on each of her limbs that keeps her subdued.

Peggy, a woman who could identify the psychological issues of a man a thousand years away notices this immediately.

“Why don’t you show Mommy’s friend how good you can be?” she purrs, handing the leash to the woman in question. Natasha takes it, her mouth dry as sand dune as she realizes what’s about to happen.

It only seems to get drier, too, as you pull Natasha’s panties off and push her pencil skirt up, the leash lax down your back as the woman above you holds the handle tight in her hand. She’s white-knuckling it as you lay small kisses along each of her thighs, smiling at Natasha’s breathy moans.

“F- _fuck_ ,” she cries – the words forced out when your lips make contact with the most sensitive part of her. “ _Fuck_ she’s so good at this-“

Natasha cuts herself off with another moan, her vocal cords (and the rest of her) overwhelmed with pleasure.

Peggy just smiles, pride crackling on her skin as if a lightning storm was beginning to awaken in her blood. “I told she was a good little pet, didn’t I?”

Natasha gives the other woman a small nod, the only type of nod she can muster as all her muscles desperately contract. “Y-yes, _shit!”_

“Then why don’t you come for us, then, Nat?” she murmurs, eyes locked in on the other woman. “Why don’t you show my little pet what a reward from you will look like?

That’s when Natasha breaks.

She comes with a high-pitched moan that erupts from her chest like lava from a volcano that had been dormant for centuries – bursting to the surface and illuminating the faces of everyone watching.

You continue with your fingers and tongue until the woman above you begins to twitch violently from how sensitive she is.

When you pull away, your face shines with Natasha’s slick. It nearly makes the woman in front of you moan as she takes the sight of you in.

You gulp before speaking. “Did I do good, Mommy?”

Peggy nods, moving to pet your hair. “You did so well, puppy. _So_ well for Mommy’s friend…”

She moves to curl her fingers under your chin, moving so that you face Natasha once more.

“Now,” Peggy coos, waiting until Natasha locks eyes with you before continuing. “Why don’t you do it again?”


End file.
